


you made me love you

by msculper



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-23 18:05:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6125383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msculper/pseuds/msculper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somehow they're the only two kids left in the dorm when everyone else leaves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thanksgiving

**Thanksgiving Break, Yale**

Caleb stumbled down the steps into the basement, his socked feet leaving brief sweat marks on the cement as he tried to keep the plastic laundry bin balanced on his hip. By some miracle, he managed to keep from tripping on the hem of his plaid sweatpants as he ducked and rounded the corner. With a yawn he rubbed his free hand over his beard, but stopped when he saw another student leaning over the washing machine. Not only were his plans of having an entire building to himself dashed, he was one-upped by this kid getting up earlier than noon. Brilliant. 

Caleb already felt like the slacker around here. Sure, Yale didn't let just anyone in, but he wasn't even there because he was smart. It was because he could row. Because his uncle knew a few people, pulled a few strings, and suddenly there Caleb was, keeping a straight C average, co-captain of the crew team, and an a cappella alternate. Caleb didn't even consider himself a student of Yale: he was more of a lost puppy that wandered in one day and hadn't been kicked out yet. 

"Dammit." The other kid was cursing, patting his pockets frantically and letting a dress shirt fall onto the most definitely stained and dusty floor. 

"Oi, you alright?" Caleb may not be one hundred percent into this random Yalie stealing his Tuesday morning plans, but he was still a nice guy. 

The other guy's hand strayed to his forehead, brushing layers of chestnut hair back across his scalp with a sigh. "I don't remember where I put my phone. I had it in my dorm, but -" he broke off his explanation to wave at the mess of shirts, sweats, and socks around him with his free hand. Caleb felt pretty bad for the guy. Placing his laundry basket well out of the way of this other kid's, Caleb fished his phone out of his sweatpants pocket, and slid it into the Yalie's hand. Well, he at least thought he did until he heard a thud. "Oh my god I'm so sorry. That's just my luck today." He picked it up off of a still partially-ironed argyle vest and showed Caleb it wasn't broken. With inexplicably long fingers, he tapped in his phone number and placed the phone precariously on the dryer. 

A peal of bells sounded from inside the washing machine. 

Caleb tried to look at him without being too judging, but it didn't work too well as the Yalie's face was hot pink as he stood from fishing his phone out from a sweatshirt pocket, thankfully not too wet, and made eye contact with Caleb. It was all Caleb could do to hide a sudden burst of laughing. "Caleb Brewster," he finally offered after several perfectly good seconds of painstaking silence. 

"Ben Tallmadge, obliged." Good Lord, this wasn't the eighteenth century. 

"You live in this dorm?" Caleb had never seen this Tallmadge kid before, but that was bound to happen when he was out at the gym every morning, and didn't get back from his extra classes until after dark. And Ben hardly seemed to be a party animal, based on his laundry. 

Ben seemed incredulous. "Uh... yeah," and gestured at the laundry that must have built up since the very beginning of the school year, impossible for even Caleb to make in one trip. 

"Never seen you 'round, though," Caleb inspected the fraying hem of his olive t-shirt. It would be kind of creepy to watch Tallmadge finish up loading clothes into the laundry machine. 

"Yeah, well I'm usually in the library." Ben cast a sideways look at Caleb, turning the dials on the laundry machine and turning towards a pile of evidently clean clothes. "Poli Sci degrees don't come easy." He began folding them with unusual crispness. 

People often told Caleb he was crazy, majoring in marine science at Yale of all places, but they obviously hadn't met this lanky political wannabe who separated his darks from his whites, all of which were perma-press, by the way. "I see," he was tan enough, but certainly paler than Caleb who spent every moment he could at least within sight of water. Natural water. Water that made him smell like salt and taste the faintest air of fish. Water that made him subconsciously shift the weight in his feet to keep upright, although the ground under him was perfectly solid. A pointed stair from the Ben kid brought him back to reality. Yes, right, conversation. "Sorry, I was lost there for a minute." A forced laugh seemed almost enough to convince Tallmadge to shake it off.

"I said I was just loading this up, but I'll be out of here as soon as this load finishes drying, if you want to wait." Something about this guy set Caleb off balance. He actually just zoned out thinking about the ocean.

"Nah, I've got some extra quarters upstairs. I'll go down the street." He grabbed his phone and threw it in his pocket (it precariously dangled in the folds of his sweatpants, this close to toppling onto the very unprotective concrete below, before finally swimming into the actual pocket), grabbed his laundry out of the corner, and nodded at Ben before starting up the stairs again. His socks left sweat marks, though this time his toes had nearly frozen standing in the basement for so long.

***

Caleb cursed. Repeatedly. The breath from his profanities just barely left a ghost in the air before him. He wiggled the front door handle again. "Why lock it on break? No one's gonna steal from a college guy's dorm."  There was a window about halfway around back, but that hadn't ended well last time. That environmental studies major from down the hall probably left his window open, but the kid was growing things in his dorm. And Caleb had packed on too much muscle to even _think_ about climbing a tree. 

Patting down his pockets to check for his smuggled key, again, Caleb felt his phone smack against his thigh. "Ben." Not sure why he said that bit out loud, he breathed life back into his fingertips and set about calling the latest number in his phone. It rang four times. 

"Hello?" An unwavering answer. Yes.

"Hey, Ben? It's Caleb."

Crickets.

"We met downstairs this morning?"

"Of course." The sound of, what Caleb was assumed, a face palm. "Can I help you?"

"I'm actually locked out, so if you could spare a minute to come let me in," What? If he could let Caleb in, then what? He'd be thankful? No dip. It was freaking Thanksgiving week anyway. "That'd be cool." Nice job Caleb. 

"Sure, I'll be down in a sec." Caleb could hear the slamming of a door and then silence. 

He shoved his hands under his armpits and settled, waiting for his knight in argyle armor to appear. He'd known the kid for two hours, and they'd already had to bail each other out. Caleb wasn't exactly popular, but he did know that they had to be setting some kind of world record for crappiest start to a friendship. Or acquaintanceship. Or whatever this was.  

Ben answered the door in a bright blue sweatshirt that, as much as Caleb felt kind of awkward admitting it, made his eyes stand out. He didn't look condescending or too put off as he picked up Caleb's laundry bin now full of clean, semi-folded clothes and held the door open with a foot. Ben was such a gentleman it made Caleb question which of the less-crappy private schools he picked for high school. "Which floor?" 

"Second." He didn't mind staying on the second floor, at least until the previously-Catholic-school-freshmen-fratboys below him turned the bass up as loud as they could on some crappy house music at 4am on random weekdays. He had a fairly decent view of campus which made up for his pretentious creative writing major roommate Bradford.

"Second? You're not an upperclassman?" Ben sounded seriously confused as he led the way up a narrow, badly lit staircase. His Long Island accent betrayed him and narrowed down Caleb's private school hypotheses considerably.  

Caleb gratefully laughed. "I'm technically a sophomore." The deafening sound of their footsteps. "I took a year off to travel."

Ben held the door onto the second floor open with one hand. "So you're my age then?" The cold had frozen Caleb's brain into a state in which he couldn't do simple math, at least not any better than usual. "I'm a junior." Aha.

Caleb nodded and opened the door to his dorm for Ben. It wasn't anything special. Bradford's half was pristine: a bed made up with a navy and red plaid comforter and the 'less impressive' (in Will's own words) of all his A-grade papers pinned to the wall or in a neat stack on his desk. Caleb's was less impressive, with an unmade, camouflage covered bed, vintage US Navy posters taped on the wall, and an unzipped backpack nonchalantly slouching in the corner.  Ben somehow managed to drop Caleb's laundry in the exact spot it usually ended up. "Thanks, Ben. For everything." He had meant to say more, at least that's how it sounded coming out of his mouth. It sounded like he had cut off his sentence halfway through. 

The junior looked briefly around the room before shoving his hands into his sweatshirt pockets. "No problem," he shrugged. "If you ever need anything, I think we're the only two in this building for the week. Just don't forget that they've locked the doors on us." Ben offered a halfhearted smile that somehow warmed up the entire room from it's late November chill before heading out the door. Caleb looked out after him to see him walking confidently down the hallway and into the staircase. Caleb thought about texting him. He had nothing to do, save sleep and write html codes for tumblr themes for Abe, his hipster friend back home.

On the second to last day of break, he was woken up from where he'd passed out in bed, his laptop still precariously balanced on his lap. 

_\- Coffee?_

Ben. Caleb propped himself up on an elbow to respond.

_\- Coffee._

Crap. Was that too cliche? Ben was probably analyzing it as he pulled on perfectly polished dress shoes, wondering why he was wasting his precious free time with such an arsehole. Caleb still managed to drag himself out of bed, throw on jeans and a worn brown sweater over his faded Star Wars t shirt, slide into his boots, and get down stairs in five minutes, without even stopping to wipe the grogg out of his eyes. Ben was wearing that same blue sweatshirt and converse and managed to look twice as put together as Caleb. Ben didn't say anything, but they nodded at each other. 

Ben placed a small, square magnet on the doorjamb to keep the door from locking on them, again, and they were off. They didn't talk until they were out in the open, huddled into themselves against the wind. "Where we off to, Tallmadge?" 

"Strong Cafe." Ben coughed into the shoulder of an arm that had its hand stuffed deeply into a pocket. "It's just a few blocks down the road and they have killer espresso."

Caleb learned several things during that walk. First, he would have to buy more wool socks. Second, Ben's hair always looked really good, even though the wind was flattening just about everything that moved into something that didn't move. Third, Ben was friends with the co-owners: Anna, who he'd grown up with on Long Island and was taking occasional classes at a college nearby, and Selah, her boyfriend and recent business school dropout. And fourth, snow still made Caleb insanely happy on Thanksgiving. 

It was gently flurrying when they entered the invitingly warm cafe with tables and leather chairs strewn about almost haphazardly. It was deserted until a lanky man with long black hair came out, giving Ben a brief, insincere smile and taking their orders. Caleb thought he and Abe would get along just fine, if they ever met. Ben ordered a huge, black coffee with a sprinkle of nutmeg and Caleb got himself a small, caramel latte. Just to spice it up. 

They didn't stick around long, only until Anna rushed out to give Ben a huge hug and reprimand him for not coming around frequently enough this semester. He gave a huge smile and complained about work with 'the Alliance,' whatever the hell that was, before waving to the couple and leaving with Caleb trailing after him. 

***

**Early December, Strong Cafe**

Caleb furrowed deeper into the leather armchair, pulling the lapels on his jack up farther to cover his neck and picking up his mug to take another sip of coffee. The seemingly non-stop flow of Yalies meant that the usually warm Strong Cafe was disheveled with sudden gusts of New York winter air. Caleb was here strictly for the alarmingly addictive coffee and the insanely fast free wifi. His budding friendship with the owners was a bonus too, but they too often associated him with Ben, who he hadn't seen since their outing during Thanksgiving break. 

He was begrudgingly typing up a lab report, but the allure of a warm mug filled with liquid warmth was too much. Half closing his laptop, he wrapped as much of his hands as he could fit around the mug and scanned the crowd. Caleb recognized one person. He recognized the ginger junior who was notorious for being the only male women's studies major that year, according to the school newsletter. His name was Nathaniel something or other, Caleb couldn't quite remember, but he stopped trying to put his finger on it when the kid moved to the side, revealing Ben Tallmadge. 

For weeks, Ben had up and vanished. Not that Caleb was actively searching for him, of course. But here he was, laughing heartily and standing annoyingly close to the Nathan kid.

Caleb was disgusted. 

He didn't know why. He and Ben had talked, what, three times? They were circumstantially thrust together for a week and now Caleb couldn't believe Tallmadge was practically holding hands with this random guy on an ordinary Friday night. 

Closing his laptop, Caleb stood up to get his stuff together. The break in cafe traffic had trapped a lot of heat into the small coffee shop, but Caleb knew he'd be better off buttoning up his jacket and downing the last of his latte.

New York was beautiful in December. Sure the air tasted a bit like gasoline, but it was cold, stung at his eyes, and sent a chill down his spine as it found an opening to Caleb's neck. It was alive. He started the trek back to campus, mentally giving up on the lab report until Sunday night, and elected to take the long way back to campus. Moping was his specialty and he hadn't had the time to mope until senior year of high school. Granted he didn't know what he was going on about for most of the walk to the dorm, it was still an activity that wasn't particularly destructive. 

Caleb kept up his goalless skulking until he saw Ben and Nathan approaching the dorm at the same pace as Caleb. Ben held the door behind him for Caleb, never stopping his conversation with Nathan or making eye contact with Caleb. 

Then Caleb stopped his unfounded brooding and began extremely specific pining. 


	2. Christmas

**Christmas Break, Yale**

Caleb didn't want to get out of bed. He somehow got his phone off of the nightstand without freezing his fingers off. It read 18 degrees. 52 degrees too cold for Caleb's liking, at least indoors. He'd thought about stealing Will's blankets at least twice, but didn't think he'd ever get the scent of cheap cologne off of himself. After several minutes of trying to convince himself to brave the elements, Caleb dragged himself out of the oh-so-warm protection of his bed and threw own his old favorite jeans. He felt kind of badly, using his roommate's coffee maker the day after he left, but at the same time it was so hot and so caffeinated. His phone vibrated on his bed.

_\- you're freezing too, right_

Caleb'd nearly forgotten about Ben. Nearly. But this nearly 'good morning' text (granted, it was sent at 11:30) on the first day of winter break was completely unexpected, even for this mysterious kid a few floors above Caleb. 

_\- i cant even type rn_

Ben didn't respond for a few seconds.

_\- any plans?_

Not wanting to read anything into it, Caleb wrote and deleted his response several times. His course load and increased a cappella practice for the holiday season didn't allow Caleb much time to think up crazy hypothetical situations involving Ben Tallmadge, so he had no preconceived idea of the perfect response.

_\- just not freezing_

_\- you up for Panera?_

***

Filled with soup and what was probably the best food either of them remembered having in weeks, Ben and Caleb were happier than usual on their walk back to campus. Caleb was just commenting on how it would be quicker to row to the dorm in the six inches of snow already built up from previous snow storms than try to walk back in this flurry. Ben's uneven, toothy smile and laugh were startling against the hush of several more inches of snow accumulating on the ground. They fell into a comfortable silence. Caleb kept a fairly even pace with Ben, despite the icy path and Ben's extremely long legs clothed in wrinkle-free jeans. Instead of focusing on Ben's legs, however, Caleb turned his attention to easing the collar of his jacket up his neck without taking his hands out of his coat pockets.

At least he did until something wet, freezing, and powdery hit him square in the back of the neck. Caleb turned to see Ben making a touchdown signal with his arms and yelping into the whipping wind.

Caleb bent down to pack a snowball of his own, when he was pelted again in the arm. "That's it Tallmadge!" He loaded up at hit Ben square in the chest, snow exploding all over his black jacket. Ben looked back at him with feigned disbelief. This was war. 

They continued hurling snowballs at each other for a good twenty minutes, clipping noses, smashing elbows, and leaving huge spots on their clothes. Caleb could pack snow more tightly together and could throw harder, but Ben had much better aim, finding every inch of open skin without hitting Caleb's eyes. On more than one occasion, which Caleb thought was extremely unfair, Ben took advantage of his height to drop armfuls of powder onto Caleb's unhatted head. (Caleb got him back by stealing his beanie, stuffing it full of snow, and slamming it back on his head.) It felt like they were kids again.

Ben was up to his knees in snow, having waded onto what was usually grassed school grounds, and firmly planted for his biggest throw yet. He heaved it through the air with a grunt and alarming speed and missed Caleb by feet. Having doubled Caleb over with huge guffaws of laughter, Ben fell back into the snow, full of dramatic disappointment. By the time Caleb reached him to offer a hand up, Ben had crafted quite the snow angel and was covered in a thin layer of fresh fallen snow. Both boys were soaking wet, hair nearly frozen and littered with snowflakes. But the wind fluttered Ben's snow-laden eyelashes in just a way that Caleb didn't care what he looked like or how long it would take his beard to dry.

Ben urged them to get on back to the dorm as the snow was picking up and obscuring the path, which Caleb readily agreed to as Ben leaned into Caleb as they hurried down the semi-cleared path. 

The dorm building, believe it or not, was actually a few degrees warmer than the outside world, and got even warmer when Ben and Caleb showered in the hottest water they could stand on their respective floors, fogging up the mirrors and letting soft peals of steam blanket each bathroom. Caleb was settling down for a nice afternoon of internet trolling when his phone lit up again.

_\- netflix?_

_NOT WITH CHILL_

_but daredevil?_

_or house of cards?_

_\- sure_

_\- 4th floor._

Caleb dragged his comforter up the two flights of stairs, partly to cover up the grey high school sweats he'd been wearing off and on for a week. He heard the low hum of some tv show he probably hadn't ever seen from one of the rooms on his right and knocked. Ben opened the door wearing _his_ high school sweatpants and a fitted long-sleeved green shirt. It took Caleb a few minutes to process what was happening. 

"I have to ask, are those Culper High pants?" Ben turned away from Caleb, going to sit down on the far side of the lower bunk in the room. 

"Yeah what's it to-" Caleb halted when he saw Ben's Setauket High - Culper's longtime rival - sweats.  "Wait, you were an Oyster?" One of Culper's favorite taunts were Setauket's markedly inferior oyster mascot to Culper's rebels. 

A shrug from Ben. "Small island." Caleb shook his head in mock disgust before settling on the foot of Ben's bed. Counting his own, there were about 6 blankets on the bed and countless pillows. They were all encased in smart khaki sheets or in deep blue, with beanbags and two ordinarily organized desks on the other side of the room to match. Fairy lights twinkled around the wooden frame of the bunk bed.

"Nice lights, Ben."

"Oh, they're Nathan's. They liked the lights so much I couldn't turn them down."

"I thought Nathan was a guy..." Caleb trailed off.

"They're pretty fluid about that."

Caleb nodded. Ben opened his laptop and leaned against the wall, gesturing for Caleb to do the same. They spread blankets over their laps and Caleb wrapped his own around his shoulders. Due to Caleb's "surprising ignorance on the marvels of modern television," Ben decided to introduce him to How to Get Away With Murder. Caleb couldn't help but wonder, with the heat radiating off of Ben's gradual closeness as he explained little quirks and theories in the relative darkness and the way the low light caught the golden highlights in Ben's slowly drying hair, if he'd chosen it on purpose. With all the gay and all. But he couldn't have. Ben was too black and white, too focused, too perfect. He wasn't the kind of guy to plan this, he wasn't the romantic type, hell, Caleb didn't even know if Ben could stand being around him. Or was Caleb wrong? It certainly wasn't the first time he would be. 

This close to asking him (1AM Caleb was always so much braver), Caleb looked over to see Ben already asleep, his head hovering inches above Caleb's shoulder on the wall. Caleb slowly got up, unplugged the fairy lights, and left, not wanting to overstay his welcome. 

***

"You're not going to like this."

"Christ, Caleb. That's how you wake me up?"

"We're snowed in. There's got to be at least two feet out there."

"Okay, okay, that woke me up."

"I've got my roommate's coffee maker. You got any food?"

Ben paused, audibly rummaging around his dorm. "If you count Ramen and pop tarts."

"Good enough for me."

Ben paused again, this time accompanied by a deep yawn. The remnants of it were still hanging on to his voice when he invited "Want to finish West Wing?" Ben and Caleb had made it a near daily regularity to plow through seasons of Ben's favorite shows over the last week. 

"You darn poli-sci-ers." Caleb hung up, happier than he'd been in a long while. 

***

Ben's door was already open. "You know, I didn't expect you to bring up half of your room." 

"Too be fair, this is only like a third." Caleb had lugged up his comforter again, the coffee maker, his laptop, all his chargers, and a few Snickers he'd found in Bradford's top drawer. Kicking the door closed, he tossed the Snickers at Ben, who had collapsed back into bed. Caleb made himself busy plugging in the coffee maker and not looking at the sliver of skin exposed as Ben stretched or the way his pants hung low on his hips. When he spun back around, Ben had gotten back between the sheets, his hair splayed out across the pillow. Not quite sure how to handle the entire attractive-guy-inviting-him-over-and-getting-back-in-bed situation, Caleb awkwardly rocked back and forth in the middle of the room. 

"It's so cold," Ben softly muttered into his pillow, "Are we here yet?" 

"Here?" They exchanged a few winks.

"As friends." Ben rubbed a long hand over his face at Caleb's silence before throwing back the covers and sliding closer to the wall. "Get in," he commanded, his voice obscured by his hand. Caleb hesitated again, before electing not to throw away his chance to get as close to Ben as he ever may be again. "There, now isn't that warmer." Thankfully, Ben's voice wasn't patronizing, though the wind howled around the building as his lips closed around the end of his sentence.

Neither of them focused very hard on Ben's laptop, so he eventually closed it, sliding it between the bed and the wall. Several moments of wind-accented silence passed between them. "So why didn't you go home?'

Ben breathed out of his nose. "My dad, back in Setauket, is a minister." He paused, nodded his head against the pillow as his collected his thoughts. "He doesn't exactly agree with everything I'm doing, and my brother Sam's home to keep him busy." To Caleb, in his somewhat biased point of view, Ben seemed perfect.

"What does your dad have against you?"

Caleb kept his eyes trained on the movement of Ben's lips as he took another deep breath. "Nathan and I lead the LGBT+ Alliance on campus, and dad doesn't exactly think his son should be condoning that behavior. If he ever catches wind that I'm rooming with a non-binary person, he's gonna flip." Caleb flicked his eyes back up to meet Ben's, two deep blue spheres marbled by the tiny lights over their heads. "How 'bout you?"

He exhaled in a sort of pseudo laugh and gave a short shrug. "No where to go. My parents died a few years ago and my uncle doesn't remember who I am." 

"I'm sorry, Caleb." Ben's expression softened in the low light. His hand shifted under the sheets to gently touch Caleb's arm. Caleb couldn't breathe. 

By the time Ben moved his hand and Caleb came back to his senses, they were talking about home. They talked about growing up three streets apart, apparently, and playing each other's respective schools in the baseball final four years in a row. They talked about early winter wind coming off of the water and all the best restaurants. They talked until they had nothing left to talk about and left a soft hush under the still-howling wind. 

"Merry Christmas Ben." He was a few days late but neither had evidently remembered. Caleb hesitated to thank him for the best holiday season he'd known. 

"Merry Christmas Caleb." 

**February, Yale Library**

Caleb had spread out books upon binders upon books all over a table in the back corner, a single earbud shoved in his ear. He worked voraciously on Washington's US History essay until he ran out of his smuggled-in coffee, pausing to look around. Much to his happy surprise, two kids had collapsed a few isolated tables ahead of him. Ben looked dashing, as usual, with a crisp blue button down and navy sweater, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, while Nathan looked the total opposite of his studious roommate with waves of red hair loosely tied back in a ponytail, harsh dashes of eyeliner, and peeling white nail polish. Nathan was rocked back in a wooden chair, precariously dangling their feet off of the ground and laughing loudly. 

Ben cut a look at Caleb with a half-serious eye roll before turning back to his own work. He eventually talked Nathan into doing their own work, from what Caleb could tell, before finding a pair of all too familiar blue eyes studying his face. Caleb turned his own deep brown ones up across the tables, excitedly meeting Ben's for a few seconds before Ben turned back to his work with a smirk. 

This close to texting him under the table to ask for dinner or coffee or something, Caleb heard giggling uncharacteristic of either Ben or Nathan, with whom he had History, and glanced up from his lap. A gaggle of presumably freshman girls from, if he were to guess, California had crowded the end of the two roommates's table. Shamelessly flirting with the two juniors, they flashed huge eyes and bright smiles, ignorant to the fact that Ben was less than interested. Even Caleb could tell that, though Nathan was too caught up in the attention to notice. After cracking a joke the girls though hilarious, though Ben's facial expression begged to differ, Nathan fell straight onto their back from their lofty perch. The girls had their hands all over them, picking them up and brushing them off, though Nathan hadn't a speck of dirt on him. Ben slyly shot another face at Caleb, nearly begging to be anywhere else. It was all Caleb could do to keep from jumping up, grabbing Ben's wrist, and striding out of the library into the endless afternoon until they were back on the water in Setauket - the only place he felt surely at peace at whole.

But he didn't. 

He was stopped by the image of the girls scrawling their numbers on one of what was presumably one of Nathan's necessary documents and Ben accepting them graciously with that goddamn crooked smile of his. And those blue blue eyes smiling up through those eyelashes. And leaving just lingering enough touches on the girls' hands with those pads of the fingers that had absentmindedly brushed Caleb's skin few enough times for him to remember each one. 

It stopped Caleb in his tracks, not that he was moving. 

Ben was a flirt. 

He and Nathan looked close enough to be mistaken for a couple, and Ben certainly didn't mind these girls practically throwing themselves at him now. Maybe it was Caleb being naive. Maybe he was just looking for signs of something he subconsciously wanted in life. Maybe what he though he had with Ben over those few days was nothing. The Panera trips, the movie nights, the tv bingeing, the shared bed for at least one morning, the comfortable silences, the shared stares: maybe Caleb was reading too far into it. 

And the worst part was it killed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-binary Nathan was kind of a last minute thing but I'm loving it. 
> 
> Thanks for hanging in there and for your outpouring of support!! This was supposed to be up earlier I promise.


	3. Spring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long long last.

**Spring, Yale**

For once, Caleb was actually kind of regretting not making plans to go away over break. Kind of. 

He spent his mornings rowing, explored or slept away afternoons, and ran before dinner. His system was fairly regular, including a pseudo-picnic just about everyday to enjoy the still-blossoming warmth of the spring air. Caleb received a phone call and, yes, he did consent to putting his uncle in a nursing home, but other than that he saved up his human interaction for the newly engaged Anna and Selah or texting the few guys on the crew team he considered himself close enough with.

Benjamin Tallmadge was the farthest thing from his mind.

At least until he nearly ran straight into him as he was leaving the dorm. "Ben!" he couldn't contain his surprise. 

"Caleb, it's been so long." 

Caleb couldn't contain much else, either. The late morning April sun cast golden shadows across Ben's freshly-cut hair, shattering his blue eyes into a thousand glittering fragments, and fuzzily outlining the silhouette of Ben in his unwrinkled polo shirt as he stood just outside the doorway. "Well, classes, life, ya know." Caleb hadn't seen much of Ben since that afternoon in the library, and had put most of his feelings on one of those library shelves. But now they were flooding back down like the crisp sunlight on the campus. Ben nodded with that crooked smile of his and leaned forward to inch through the door around Caleb. "Ben, wait," Caleb's hand floated in the limited air between their bodies and he was instantly grateful for his horrible timing. "Wanna go for lunch?"

Mentally preparing to explain that it really wasn't a _date_ , not unless Ben wanted to read between the lines like that, and that Caleb only wanted to catch up after months of not talking and - "Sure. That sounds great." Caleb almost wished he hadn't asked when he felt the temperature shift as Ben walked back out the door and away from Caleb's frozen figure. 

They picked up sandwiches for lunch and meandered to Caleb's favorite bench, under an oak tree, with only minimal conversation. 

"I ever told you you're too nice to be a Poli Sci major?" Caleb found himself saying around a sub. He was met with Ben's barely stifled laughter. 

"I don't know why you would." 

"You're almost too honest to be a politician, Ben." 

"Thank God I don't want _that_ with my life." Caleb looked up at him with round, skeptical eyes. "I want to teach." Biting back into his lunch, Caleb glanced back at Ben to encourage him to continue. "I want to teach social studies, but not just the history and economics, I want to show kids how to be good citizens. Our forefathers forged a great, complicated democracy that too few people understand and if I can help people understand, I would feel like I did something for the United States." Ben went off for a few minutes about voting and intelligent citizenship, but Caleb didn't care about that. At least not like he cared about the fire behind Ben's eyes and the wide, expressive movements his long hands made. Ben's entire being came alive as he talked about the importance of American government and equality and god he was so handsome. Caleb had to fight down the urge to kiss him right then and there as he dumbly nodded along encouragingly, wishing he could record that moment forever without being an absolute creeper about it. 

All too soon, Ben was excusing himself to take a phone call. He stood a few yards off. Smiled into the receiver. Laughed. Hung up and shook his head. It pissed Caleb off.

Ben settled back down on the bench, closer than he had been before, but Caleb barely even noticed. "What are we? I mean, where are we?" Caleb turned to face Ben, who was already looking back at him in disbelief. "Are we friends? What is this?" He hated sounding like a clingy, whiny boyfriend, but in the spur of the moment he was angry and wanted answers. 

"What do you -" Ben trailed off just long enough for Caleb to start up again.

"The second half of break we're best friends, but we never see each other while class is in session, and the first half of break you're too self-absorbed and hesitant. What's up?" He really sounded desperate and kind of irrational, but Caleb's words had been said. 

"I'm entitled to other friends and work and a life." Ben was incredulous and put-off, but, thankfully, not too angry. "And I need time... time to wind down from classes and people and a non-stop schedule." Ben got quiet. "You're a good friend to me." _Damn right, I am._  Caleb figured all of those hours pressed side to side, eyes glazing over a screen had to mean something. Something to this tall, adorable flirt he'd fallen for. 

***

Ben knocked on Caleb's door in a crisp white shirt, deep red tie, and navy sweater, the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms and the tie slightly undone. Caleb stopped chewing his gum. "Coffee?" The deep bags under his eyes and slight droop in his voice gave away how tired Ben was, despite his smile and casual stance. To his credit, Ben tried his best to be upbeat for Caleb as they strolled through campus. 

"You look awfully nice." Put-together is what he was looking for, but Ben didn't seem to acknowledge the light blush creeping up Caleb's neck. 

"The school where I'm student teaching hasn't let out yet. Tomorrow's their last day." A nearly smug grin wound its way onto Ben's face, nearly making Caleb stop in his tracks. Pride and late afternoon light shown through layers of sleepless nights and exhaustion. 

The door rattled with their entrance into the coffee shop, making Anna look up from her magazine with a warm smile before glancing back down and absentmindedly stirring the spoon in her tea. Across the cafe, a giggle rose from the only other people in the place. Ben lightly touched Caleb's elbow, bringing his heart to the back of his mouth, and gestured with his head towards the party in the corner. "Do you mind grabbing a small coffee? I should go say hi to one of my students." Caleb pushed him off towards the family with a smile, ordered their coffees and settled in at a table for two under a window, watching Ben from afar.

He was a natural. A young girl who, by her braces and seemingly legitimate homework, seemed to be about twelve or thirteen was showing him something in her notebook and excitedly talking, urged on by her mother's smiles and Ben's gentle laugh. Caleb sipped, making eye contact with Anna. She winked when Caleb looked at her before turning her attention back to drifting lazily between her magazine and Ben's conversation. After about five minutes Ben came back, slightly blushing, and sat across from Caleb. 

"Kids," he began, before seeing a large coffee on the wooden table. "Caleb, I wanted a small."

"I know." For whatever reason, probably sitting with a boy coated in golden light in a warm cafe, Caleb could hardly hold back a quiet chuckle of indignation. 

"Caleb -"

Caleb wanted to cut him off with his mouth, but decided against it (the preteen a few tables away may have knocked some sense into him). "Benny, if you could see yourself right now, you'd see how much you need it. Trust me." Ben skeptically took a sip, not breaking eyes. "You'll thank me later." Caleb said, complete with an eyebrow twang. Scaring the life out of himself, Caleb looked on as Ben choked on his coffee, moisture springing to his eyes from both the scalding liquid and a laugh. Caleb leaned over instinctively and offered napkins, taking the coffee and opening it to cool. He was grateful to have something to distract him from wiping away at Ben's eyes with the pads of his fingers. 

Ben cast a glance up at Caleb as he checked himself for spills. Caleb's eyes tracked Ben's hands as they smoothed over his sweater and slacks, only moving them to look back into the unrelenting peace of Ben's eyes. "I'm sure I will." No overwhelming emotion, but a tongue and teeth worrying over his bottom lip, still slightly chapped from the winter. Caleb was saved (graciously) from any response he may have uttered by the family of Ben's student leaving.

Ben's face lit up and simultaneously flipped into business mode as the girl came into view. He seemed so completely _Ben_ , yet also a facet of him even more mature than he had been in the park that day. She handed him a piece of paper, half-hiding behind her hand before promising to get her homework done and scuttling away after her mother. Watching him unfold the paper with a trademarked uneven smile, Caleb took a sip of his own coffee, sure to blow on it before drinking. "What'd she give you?"

"She's very artistic," he began, clearing his throat, "She drew the three branches of government, like in that School House Rock with the circus? I played it in class today and she was apparently inspired enough to sketch it for me."

"So that's what you were talking about, the other day at lunch."

Ben smiled back at him. "Yeah, I guess so." Ben kept giggling, giving Caleb's heart enough warmth to survive hundreds of New York winters. "C'mere." It was a command, but it was soft enough to entice Caleb slowly, as if the golden sunlight filtered over them was as thick as it looked. He shifted forward, leaning his elbows on the table and sliding his coffee out of the way. Ben tentatively lifted his arm and cradled the air around Caleb's face. His thumb brushed the corner of Caleb's upper lip, his eyes tracing the movement of his finger and Caleb's eyes gazing back at Ben's. Ben pulled away faster than Caleb wanted - _needed_ him to, the ghost of a fingertip still warm on his skin.

"Coffee," Ben uttered, reaching for his own and chugging it. Caleb nodded, dumbfounded and praying that no one had been watching. When they left, Anna was grinning like a school girl and into another cup of tea.

***

**Spring, Yale Regatta**  

Caleb saw Ben almost as soon as he came off the water. He was wearing that blue sweatshirt and standing with Nathan an awkward distance from the food. Too bad Caleb looked and felt terrible. Sure, they put everything they had into winning, but Caleb lost everything he had for his second race. Caleb - sweaty, tired, flushed - hadn't counted on Ben even _being_ at his first regatta of the season. Nathan sarcastically waved (how that was even possible, he had no clue), leaving Caleb no choice but to walk over, dragging the back of his hand across his forehead, wiping brown curls across his face. 

"Hi." _Yikes, Caleb._

"Nice race." Nathan sounded surprised. "Way to start the year, Yalie." Caleb had half of a mind to remind them that they, too, were a pretentious Ivy-Leaguer, but settled for a small 'thank you.' His captaincy wasn't worth insulting a regatta-goer.

"Way not to catch any crabs man," Ben blurted with an uneasy pat on Caleb's arm. Nathan chuckled into their cup of Caleb figured to be 'altered' coffee and flipped Ben the bird as they backed away towards another school's tent. "Sorry but that. Nathan assured me that was lingo and wouldn't be awkward, sorry." Ben kneaded the back of his neck with long fingers, sheepishly looking back at Caleb.

Caleb laughed, "Hey, as long as you're trying there, Tallboy." Caleb pat Ben's shoulder as he walked by to get food. "Want any pasta salad?" He was still beet red, shaking his head no. "Suit yourself."

After filling a paper bowl, Caleb walked across the slightly water-logged ground to a wooden bench, picking up his thick plaid blanket on the way. The slight squish behind him betrayed Ben's stride, not that Caleb knew it inside and out. He sat and draped the blanket over his lap, trying not to scarf his food down too fast in front of Ben. Ben eagerly covered his own lap and hands with the blanket, already shivering from the deep cold blowing across the water. He sat closer than Caleb would have liked. Close enough that Caleb, given enough adrenaline or courage, could have done anything reckless. Close enough to trick Caleb into thinking Ben was all his.

They sat silently, listening to the distant undercurrent of lapping water, the whispered laughter under the tents, the steady beat of coxswain's yelling. A few noodles left in the bowl, Caleb tipped it towards Ben and nudged him in the shoulder, offering him the rest. Ben reluctantly untangled his hands from his pockets and the blanket to accept, giving a nod and barely upturned lip in appreciation. Ben precariously balanced the empty bowl on the last inch or two of the bench and put his hands back under the blanket, pressed against the slowly warming wood. 

A soft mist of rain began to fall, catching in the still bare tree limbs above them and falling in small droplets across their shoulders. Caleb slipped his own hands under the blanket, pulling more of it up to cover the bottom of his torso. He pondered over Ben's silhouette next to him: his cheeks rose-tinted at the cool, his shoulders drawn up against the breeze, his eyelashes dewy as the rain became stronger, his lips slightly parted, and his messy hair, falling perfectly over the top of his ear. "Thanks for coming, Ben." Caleb hated breaking the silence, but his voice came out soft enough that it seemed appropriate. 

"Not a problem. I'd never been to a regatta and Nathan didn't have any plans so we figured it was better than writing history essays." Ah yes, Nathan. Caleb knew he had no reason to be jealous, especially when he and Nathan got along well enough, but the way Ben phrased it made Caleb falter. "You did really well, from what I saw," Ben hastily threw out after sitting in now-deplorable silence for a few seconds too long. Caleb smiled at the appeasement that shouldn't have been working, but did. 

"I'm sorry it's so boring for non-rowers. And that it's so cold." 

"No, it's fine," Ben hurried with a whisper of a laugh. "I've actually been looking forward to this for a while." Ben was completely facing Caleb, his eyes dancing over Caleb's grinning face. Under the blanket, Caleb could feel where Ben's hand sat parallel to his, as close as possible without actually touching. It nearly drove Caleb insane. The rain seemed to break for a moment - their moment. 

Suddenly, a figure flung itself across their laps. When Caleb's breathing evened out and his heart dropped back from his throat into his chest, he identified the figure as the cackling figure of one Nathan Hale. Ben was fuming through panicked laughter as he shoved Nathan up onto their feet. "What the hell?" Nathan was still cracking up as they struggled to find the air to explain. 

"Well - you see, you too looked so _warm_ and everything here is so uptight and honestly so stuffy - no offense, Caleb - and if I have to listen to one more conversation comparing summer cottages at Martha's Vineyard I am going to throw up." Ben glared at Nathan, though they blatantly ignored him. They blatantly nodded between Caleb and Ben instead, "Got enough room in there for one more?" 

Ben looked as though he were about to explode, but Caleb shrugged and threw the blanket off of his own lap, briefly exposing himself to the thick, damp cold, and made room for Nathan between he and Ben. As Nathan situated themself and tossed the blanked back to cover Caleb, Ben leaned around behind Nathan and mouthed at Caleb exactly what he could go do with himself. Caleb laughed, but Ben's lack of composure and sudden opposition to Nathan's presence seemed uncharacteristic. 

They sat talking and watching the rain wax and wane for a while before feeling the stagnant ache in their bones. Ben and Nathan planned on running off to grab real, warm food before Caleb's slowly approaching debut single scull. As Nathan began trudging away through the mud, Caleb caught Ben's elbow. "You okay?"

Ben stared back, confusion apparent on his brow and the curl of his lips. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Though Caleb was inquiring after Ben's well-being, Ben still managed to look worried. 

"You seemed more pissed than usual at Nathan back there."

"Yeah, well, he totally embarrassed me in front everyone in the Yale tent, and I guess I'm not used to that." Ben smiled down at Caleb, appreciatively, before running to catch up with his roommate. 

***

They took longer than Caleb had figured, but the sky cleared and he cheered on his teammates under the watchful eye of his coach. Periodically he looked around for that familiar blue sweatshirt. 

Seconds away from going onto the water, wiping layer after layer of sweat off of his hands, Caleb saw the unmistakable bob of a certain golden Tallmadge head of hair. 

Caleb won his race scull lengths ahead of the competition.

***

**Student Move Out Day, Yale**

A clear blue sky smiled down at Caleb through the window of his now cleared out ex-dorm. It was quiet in the dorm building, despite some scraping of boxes across floors and one or two arts majors blaring Rent as they finished packing. There was minimal laughter from the frat boys downstairs and no inexplicable bass reverberating through the walls. It was an uneasy kind of peaceful, but it was peaceful nonetheless and that was enough for Caleb as he took the last cardboard box out to his old pickup truck his uncle had driven up for him. Out of nostalgia, Caleb decided to take one last look in the dorm. 

He could hardly say he surprised himself when he went a floor father than his own. Ben was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor amidst boxes, bags, and assorted piles of books and clothes. Leaning on the doorjamb, Caleb watched as Ben smoothed a hand over his hair, counting under his breath. “Hey.”

Ben spun around and stood with a start. “Hey!” he paused,  “Headed out?” 

_ Pushing me out the door there, Tallboy? _ he thought. “Yeah, I just wanted to stop by for old times’ sake.” Caleb shoved his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, slightly his  forgotten invitations for the summer.  

“You going home? To Setauket, I mean,” Ben looked as sheepish and uncomfortable as Caleb had ever seen him,  and they'd done practically everything a platonic pair could do over the course off three school breaks.

Caleb shifted his weight and carefully stepped into the room.  “Actually I have offers to row at a few regattas and there's one in Greenland that I'm pretty psyched about…” Caleb digressed when he saw the sudden gloom blanketing his friend's face. And he had assumed that Greenland would take his mind off of this blue eyed boy wonder. “I mean I also got an invitation for one in Setauket, but I need a coxswain for that one.” 

Ben's face immediately brightened back up and the surge of light and energy made Caleb stupid. The kind of stupid that produces either courage or idiocy, and rarely anything in between. Caleb's insane bravery as he crossed the floor and cradled Ben's face with his two hands, his thumbs brushing up along Ben's cheekbones. Caleb's lunacy for not squarely meeting his lips with Ben's so much sooner. Ben reacted with a short, high sound of surprise before melting into Caleb's touch, a long arm wrapping around his waist to plant a hand at the small of Caleb's back and pull him closer. 

They stood there for what felt like a lifetime and a single second all rolled into one moment, feeding off of their closeness. When they finally pulled apart, arms so entangled there were hardly defined boundaries between their bodies and foreheads rolling against each other, Ben's mouth greedily followed after Caleb's before he turned the deepest shade of red Caleb had ever laid eyes on. Caleb reassured him with a soft kiss on the nose. "I'll take that as a yes to joining me then."

A low whistle sounded from the hallway.

They both unwound, only connecting two of their palms out of embarrassment, but it was only Nathan.

"'Bout time you two got your act together. I've had to listen to Ben's obnoxious pining for months now." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> s/o to Shu-Jin for helping with rowing stuff
> 
> And thanks for hanging in 'til the end!

**Author's Note:**

> If it wasn't painfully obvious, I'd like to point out that I know much more about laundry than I do Yale. So any inaccuracies or really big conclusions are not intentional and just a product of my own ignorance. 
> 
> "Slow burning relationships are true pain." -- some smart person, sometime, probably


End file.
